AVATARS: Gone Native
by Q42
Summary: Life on Pandora is great! Clear skies, fresh air ... and a bunch of blue-skinned eggheads trying hard to fit in. Join Norm, Max, and the rest of the Avatar team as they explore Pandora … and try hard not to make total skxawngs of themselves.
1. For the Man Who Had Everything

AVATARS:

Gone Native

By Q42

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Life on Pandora is great! The air is clean, the planet is beautiful, and if you're one of the people who help to keep it that way, the Na'vi will treat you just fine. Join Norm, Max, and the rest of the Avatar team as they explore Pandora … and try hard not to make total _skxawng_s of themselves.

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Chapter 1: For the Man Who Had Everything

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Parker Selfridge was in a lousy mood.

Then again, he was usually in a lousy mood these days. Eight years previously, the little man had been on top of the world – no, the Universe. He had been in charge of Extra-Solar Mine One, the biggest and most lucrative operation in the history of capitalism. At twenty million USD per kilo, he had raked in a sizable percentage of unobtanium sales. Everything had been rolling along smoothly.

Then a bunch of fly-bitten blue savages had kicked him – literally – into the next solar system.

It had been bad enough when Jake Sully and his band of merry turncoats had herded him onto the shuttle. It had been worse to get packed into a cryo chamber knowing that he was only bringing home a measly metric ton of unobtanium. The real kicker, though, had been when the UN had brought him up on charges.

"_Crimes against sentient life?" That wasn't even a category before they put me on trial! I thought they were only crimes if you committed them against humanity!_

Unfortunately, this argument had failed to impress the World Court. Not only had Parker been hung out to dry, but the Resources Development Administration had pretty much ceased to exist, with most of its assets sold to pay off a massive indemnity. No doubt the world governments were happy to take over the industrial giant's operations, without having to deal with the RDA's stranglehold on unobtanium supplies, algae farms, and resources in general.

The only reason Parker was still drawing breath was because his father, the RDA's former CEO, had still had a decent nest-egg left, and enough pull to keep his loyal (if hopelessly inept) son out of the incinerator.

Now, here Parker stood, watching through a triple pane of Lexan as some little mining ship came in for a landing. Asteroid Mine 248 smelled like an old copper pipe, its recycled air sighing forlornly as it traveled through the hollowed-out space rock. At some point in the previous century, it had been a major source of iron, nickel, and other heavy metals. Now it was just a big shipping yard, where loads from the smaller rocks were gathered in, packed up, and shot in to Earth by a magnetic catapult. The place was empty, cold, and long past its glory days. A lot like Parker, actually.

"Hey, Selfish! You got a package."

"Huh?" Parker turned to face the dirty, shaggy older man who had addressed him. "From whom?"

The dockworker inspected his data pad. "From … lessee … Fort Trudy Chacon, via _ISV Copernicus_, Gateway Station and AM-248 distribution. Sign here."

"Trudy Chacon … I just _know_ I've heard that name before," Parker muttered, signing the little screen. "_Copernicus_ … wait a minute! That was one of the ships between Earth and Pandora!"

The old guy shrugged. "Mebbe. Prob'ly got 'er doing the Pluto run, now that Pandora's off-limits. Anyways, I'll have one of de guys drop it off at yer quarters after the shift's over."

The next couple of hours went by with all the agonizing slowness that Parker had grown accustomed to. Ships came in, ore was offloaded, rocks were tossed into the smelting pools, and refined metal was packed up and fired off to Earth. And, of course, Parker slogged through the mountains of paperwork that were continually dumped on his desk.

Finally, Parker trudged down the corridor to his grimy, rough-hewn apartment deep inside AM-248. At once, he noticed the long, 2'x2'x6' box standing outside the hatch. _Maybe somebody on Pluto likes me?_ He couldn't imagine whom; even his fellow rock rats would have happily tossed him out an airlock given half a chance.

Taking a beat-up, rusty pair of scissors, Selfridge cut open the box … and nearly passed out from joy. Inside the box was a long, cylindrical bag, made of fine black leather, with brass buttons and zipper.

"_My clubs!"_ cried the little man, his eyes lighting up like a kid's at Christmas time. "My babies! How the hell did you get here?" Ripping the last of the packaging away, Parker pulled out the fancy golf bag, tossing aside the small blue envelope on top.

Then he unzipped it, and nearly passed out again … this time, from horror.

There were his precious golf clubs, all right – or what was left of them. It looked as though somebody had taken Parker's clubs, driven over them with a tank, burned them, shot at them, then hired Superman to come and work them over. His nine-iron and putter were twisted around one another. His carbon-fiber driver looked like someone had torched it with gasoline, leaving a charred blackish-gray lump at the end. Several bullet indentations had even been used to "draw" a smiley face on the head of his sand wedge.

"No! No … NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" wailed Parker. Grabbing the blue envelope, he tore it open.

Dear Parker,

We tried to teach the Omaticaya about golf. Unfortunately, when they heard it was your favorite sport, they decided to get creative with your clubs. Oh well….

Anyway,

Happy Golfing!

Love,

Jake

Neytiri

Norm

Max

And the rest of your loyal friends on Pandora!

Beneath the text was an enormous orange kiss. It was far too large to have been made by human lips, and seemed to be made from some sort of orange war paint instead of lipstick.

With a scream of frustration, Parker crumpled the card up and tossed it across the room. Then he glared at the ceiling of his dim, dirty apartment, shaking his fist at the heavens.

"CURSE YOU, JAKE SULLY!!!!"

---


	2. Skunked

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Chapter 2: Skunked

---

The direhorse leaped over a creek, and Max Patel felt his lunch trying to make a run for it. "Norm, why couldn't you have just brought me a sample?" the curly-haired human shouted through his exopack.

The blue xenoanthropologist just laughed. "Oh, c'mon, Max! If you want to understand Pandoran ecology, you've got to observe a species in its natural environment!"

"Then send me a hologram!" yelped Max, as the six-legged stallion galloped around a fallen tree trunk.

Norm rolled his eyes. Unlike most of the original Avatar program members, Max had never really wanted an Avatar body of his own, much less wanted to transfer himself into it permanently. He much preferred the air-conditioned comfort of Hell's Gate – now Fort Trudy Chacon – to the dirty, sweaty, often dangerous environment of the Pandoran rainforest. Max's preferred methodology usually involved slicing things up into itty, bitty pieces, then running them through fifteen types of scanning equipment. And woes betide anyone who so much as smudged a microscope slide in _his_ lab!

In Norm's considered opinion, his friend really needed to get out more.

Hence today's little field trip. A few days earlier, Norm had been out riding with a hunting party, when he had stumbled across a strange new variety of scorpion thistle. Since the six-meter-tall plant was too big to transport back to Fort Chacon, Norm had seen it as a golden opportunity to lure Max out of his laboratory.

_For lab rats, you use cheese,_ Norm had reasoned. _For lab techs, you use a missing link between plantae and zooplantae._

And so, here they were, two hours' riding time from Fort Chacon, with Max clinging to Norm on the back of a four-meter-tall alien horse. The blue-skinned, loincloth-clad xenolanthropologist rode with a huge grin on his face, feeling the wind in his hair. The lab-coated, exopack-toting, bespectacled tech hung on for dear life, wishing fervently that he had never agreed to this.

"Okay, this should be pretty close … aha! There it is!" Norm said, bringing the direhorse to a stop. Immediately, he felt something small and squishy plaster itself against his back. Craning his long neck around, he saw Max crushed against his spine. With a grunt, Max moved back, glaring up at his big, blue best friend. "Norm, for crying out loud! Warn me before you hit the brakes like that!"

Norm rubbed the back of his head, smiling sheepishly at Max. "Sorry." Swinging around, the avatar driver-turned-pa'li rider managed a smooth dismount. Max tried to do the same, but realized anew that a direhorse's back is about as high as a giraffe's. Seeing his friend's hesitation, Norm reached over, lifted him off the animal, and set him down on the forest floor. "So, are you ready to see a marvel of Pandoran evolution?"

"As long as it doesn't try to eat me," Max replied, eyeing a hanging stingbat suspiciously.

"Max, relax! It's just a plant. I mean, it's a really, really cool plant, but it's harmless."

Brushing aside the undergrowth, Norm led the way toward a small clearing. At its center stood a fifteen-foot-tall plant, its top curled like a scorpion's tail. At its tip was a bulbous green-and-purple blossom, pointed almost horizontally. Its five-foot-wide bloom glowing softly in the shade, the scorpion thistle stood in a small patch of bare brown soil.

Max regarded the giant plant warily. "The coloration is certainly different. Normally, scorpion thistles have white blossoms with pink spots. And it's shorter."

Norm smiled. "Yeah, but its color isn't the only unique trait. Wait until you see what it does!" Grabbing a large stone, he tossed it toward the giant flower. Immediately, the blossom lit up like a lantern, and the entire plant reared back, aiming for the rock. With a loud _blat!, _the plant unleashed a blast of brownish-green goop, hitting the stone in mid-flight. The attack was powerful enough to knock the object away, landing well outside the bare patch around the plant.

Max just goggled at the sight. "That reaction! A plant, moving that _fast_…!"

Norm grinned enormously. "I know! Isn't it great? I think the stem has a muscle fiber and motor neuron structure like an animal limb. And there's got to be some kind of sensory apparatus in the flower. I'm thinking maybe in those three big outer petals, to let it triangulate the target's position?"

"Could be. Some sort of infrared sensor array?"

"Maybe, or even some primitive proto-ocular light-sensitive cells that let it see motion."

"But … I mean, normal scorpion thistles can't do anything like this!"

"I know! I really think this could show us how Pandoran zooplantae evolved. A normal plant, short enough for mid-level herbivores to get at, has to find a way to chase off primary consumers, so it develops the ability to blast them with stink-tastic green goop."

"So it's an olfactory deterrent, too?"

"Oh, yeah! When I got splattered, not even my direhorse would come near me. I had to walk all the way back to Kalutrel!"

"Heh. Maybe we should call it 'Spellman's Skunktree'," Max said with a chuckle. Parting the tall grass, he headed over to inspect the rock. After hearing Norm's description, he was glad to be wearing an exopack; the smell would probably have been nasty. The stone was covered in thick, viscous green ooze.

Engrossed in his inspection of the target rock, Max didn't see the skunktree's blossom brighten like a light bulb.

"Crap … Max, FREEZE!!!" Norm shouted.

Hearing the fear in his friend's voice, the scientist stood stock still. "What is it? Some kind of predator? Is it behind me?"

"No, it's the plant! You must have come within triggering range of it. Just don't move, and maybe it'll ignore you."

"'_Maybe'_? That stuff doesn't burn, does it?"

"Um, well, it really itches. It's like a poison ivy rash. I mean, I hope it doesn't do anything worse to humans than it did to me…."

"Aww, man!" Max groaned. "Norm, the next time you find something that sprays, captures or digests people, just send me a picture!"

If you've ever tried to sit absolutely, completely still, you can guess how excruciating the next ten minutes were for Max. The skunktree's flower remained pointed straight at him, its bio-light pulsing ominously. After a while, though, the pulses became dimmer and farther apart, as though the plant had lost interest.

"All right, Max, I think it's stopped targeting you. Just back away slowly, and don't make any sudden movements."

"Right. Okay, I'm backing away…." Carefully, Max lifted one foot off the ground, moved it slowly backward, and set it down silently. Then he repeated the process, watching to make sure the skunktree's glow was still slow and dim.

After six slow steps backward, Max let out a sigh. "Whew! That was close." Straightening up, he turned his back to the skunktree, heading back toward Norm and the direhorse.

_Blat! Blat! Blat!_

Without warning, three heavy impacts hit Max from behind, nearly knocking him down. "Yipe!"

_Blat! Blat! Blat! Blat!_

Still reeling from the first salvo, Max spun around as another gob of green stuff hit him in the shoulder. Three others whizzed through the air around him, splattering amid the shrubbery. "Norm! Help!! _It's a fricking machine gun!!!"_

The skunktree let loose with a third volley, now jerking around to fire in different directions. Having been triggered twice in ten minutes, the thing had apparently decided to lay waste to the area. Norm's direhorse reared back, screeching in fright, then bolted off through the forest.

"Hey! Come ba—!" _Blat!_ "Ack!!! Aw, crap, not again…!"

_Blat! Blat! Blat! Blat! Blat!_

Bobbing and weaving through the bushes, Max did his best to dodge the gooey missiles. "Jeez! Just how much of that crap does it have stored up?"

"I'm not waiting around to find out! C'mon!" Making a mad dash for the edge of the clearing, Norm and Max fled the trigger-happy shrub, stopping only when Max's shorter human legs couldn't go any further.

Leaning against a tree, the two scientists lay panting for a while. Then Norm took a sniff and scooted away. "Ugh. Max, I think you're going to have to ditch the lab coat. It smells like it's spent the last week in a landfill."

Max groaned. "Thank God I can't smell anything with this mask on. I think it hit me at least four times."

"Oh, man. Now my shoulder's starting to itch…."

"How far is it to Hometree?"

"About an hour on horseback. On foot … crud. We'd better get walking."

---

Several hours later, Jake and Neytiri sat with the rest of the Omaticaya, waiting for the meat from the day's hunt to cook. Talking with neighbors, Jake watched their children scampering around with the other kids, chasing each other around the way any kids of any species do, on any world.

All of a sudden, his daughter Niwin'ite looked around, making a disgusted face. _"What's that smell?" _she exclaimed, putting a five-fingered hand over her nose.

Soon, all faces were turned toward the western path. Two figures trudged toward Kalutrel, tired and bedraggled-looking. Both the tall, lanky avatar and his human companion had twigs stuck in their hair, and were preceded by a wave of stench. At their approach, all but the bravest souls fled the cooking pit. Holding a hand over his own nose, Jake made his way toward the weary travelers. "Norm? Max? What in Eywa's name happened to you two?"

Max gave a low moan. "It's a long and ugly story," he muttered.

"But first, do you have any tomato juice handy…?"

---


	3. Test Flight

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Chapter 3: Test Flight

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"I am _not_ flying that!"

The loud, indignant voice echoed across Fort Chacon, sending a few startled tetrapterons flying. Once, no living thing would have dared to approach the Hell's Gate compound – with its automated sentry guns, defoliant-spraying drones, and razor-wire fences, the place had been designed specifically to keep Pandoran life out.

Now, though, the walls of the RDA's old stronghold were overgrown with vines. Flowers bloomed through cracks in the landing strip. The only things coming out of the refineries these days were fungus, moss, and a few tough little plants.

Amid the wild growth, living quarters, labs and communications systems were still intact. A well-tended garden grew amid the old hab modules, stocked with a mix of Terran and Pandoran food crops. The place even had an outdoor basketball court, right beside a military-style obstacle course.

Around this living area, the rainforest just stopped, as if the base personnel and the land had drawn up a formal agreement.

Outside what remained of the perimeter fence, a metal sign declared the place to be RESOURCES DEVELOPMENT ADMINISTRATION EXTRA-SOLAR COLONY ONE. Someone must not have liked the place much, though, because there were traces of spray paint on the sign, spelling out HELL'S GATE in red-stenciled letters.

Then somebody had scrubbed _that_ name away, taken a can of cyan spray-paint, and had written this:

Welcome to

FORT TRUDY CHACON

Arsenal of Democracy

"You're not the only one with a gun, bitch!"

Now, a very perturbed-looking female Avatar stood outside the armor bay, hands on her hips, glaring at the pair of humans inside. "I mean, for crying out loud, it looks like you ripped the whole freaking _cockpit_ off! How is that not supposed to screw with the handling?"

"Angie, c'mon!" whined the shorter of the two ex-mercenaries, a scrawny-looking human in khaki shorts, ball cap and a muscleman shirt. "This here's my baby. I promise she'll take good care of you."

The xenoclimatologist gave a huff, flicking her tail in annoyance. "Abel, listen, I appreciate that you and Mack are keeping busy here, but trying to rebuild a gunship? To be flown by Na'vi? That's a little over the top, even for you gearheads."

Mack, the taller, darker skinned and more burly of the two, just sighed. "Look, the RDA could be back any day now, right? When they do show up, we gotta have some serious heat on our side. We got seven Scorpions here, and enough spare parts to make three more like this. What's the use of just lettin' 'em sit around here?"

Angie glanced skeptically at the cobbled-together machine they were making such a fuss about. Like all the aircraft, vehicles and AMP suits that had been left behind at Fort Chacon, the Scorpion gunship had been decorated with bright blue war paint, marking it as a friendly unit for any Na'vi who might wind up fighting alongside it.

Unfortunately, the machine had been designed to carry a human pilot, and there were only a handful of humans left on Pandora. An ikran might be able to carry one missile pod slung under its belly, but the Na'vi's living mounts couldn't compete with a Scorpion when it came to raw firepower.

So, for the past two years, Abel's pet project had been the conversion of one of the gunships into a Na'vi-friendly aerial weapons platform.

The prototype sitting by the exit door looked like it had had its cockpit sliced off by a guillotine. Abel had pretty much ripped out the life-support system – a Na'vi wouldn't need to breathe filtered air. This had given him enough room to move the gunship's guts around, making an empty tube in its belly. Apparently, the idea was for a Na'vi to lie prone inside the craft, like a hang glider, with his head and shoulders sticking out to grab the two wooden control sticks in front.

Instead of a closed cockpit, a simple Lexan windshield was held out ahead of the craft's body. An oversized wooden crash helmet hung from a bundle of electrical wires, projecting a head's up display onto the Na'vi-sized goggles. Wooden buds made to fit inside a Na'vi's ear also let the pilot use their radio while flying.

To Angie, the thing looked about as reliable as a Ferrari made out of sticks. "Look, guys, I really don't think this is a good idea. Remember, if I get killed in this body, that's it now; I can't just wake up in the link room anymore. And why on Pandora did you make the new parts out of wood?"

"Hey, that's Pandoran ironwood; ten times lighter and five times stronger than carbon steel. Angie, please, just chill out! It's perfectly safe! If you want, you can have your banshee fly with you. If you need to ditch, just hit the big yellow button and drop out of it."

"Jeez, Abel! It doesn't even have an ejection seat?!?"

"It doesn't need one! You won't be sitting! The belly just opens up under you, and you can land in the canopy. Jake says Na'vi do it all the time, right?"

"No, we don't do it 'all the time', just in emergencies!"

"Look, I promise you it'll be a hoot. You'll be just fine."

"Oh sure. If it's really so safe, why don't you fly it?"

"Because it's made for a Na'vi! My arms aren't long enough to grab the joysticks, and my feet won't reach all the way back to the pedals."

Angie groaned. "And you couldn't have asked any of the others to do this little stunt for you?"

Mack held up his hands in helplessness. "Ash and Lily are running around someplace with their communicators off, and Louise is still helping Max get un-skunked. That just leaves you, or else we're gonna have to call up Jake and get him to send someone else out here from Hometree."

Angie looked up at the sun and sighed. "Crap; I promised Matt I'd be back in time for dinner. I hope he and the kids don't start worrying." Fixing the human techs with a hard stare, she said, "You two owe me for this."

Abel grinned. "Perfect! Thanks, Angie! I promise, you'll be fine. It'll be a blast!"

Shaking her head, the female Avatar gave a whistle, summoning her ikran Tswayon. The big winged reptoid was by her side in a flash, and Angie quickly bonded with her, mentally sharing her flight plan. Tswayon snorted, as if to say, _You actually plan on _flying_ that ugly tin can? Yuck!_

Angie shrugged. _Hey, humans think the same thing about riding big, fish-jawed lizards._

Tswayon gave another derisive snort, but stepped back to let her rider climb into the big human machine. At least Abel had padded the rider's compartment, though he clearly hadn't designed the chest support for a female pilot. "Hey, gearhead, make sure you fit these cushions for the pilot. I feel like my boobs are getting smushed flat."

Both humans flushed with embarrassment, and Angie couldn't help but grin. _Try running around in nothing but a loincloth and a necklace for a few weeks; that shyness goes away real fast._ "Okay, I'm in," she said, adjusting the oversized wooden helmet. "Now, how do I start this thing up?"

"Just hit the blue button on your left joystick. I redesigned the avionics to be mostly automated; you just concentrate on steering and shooting."

Angie hit the switch, and the Scorpion – Arachnoid? They'd have to name it something Pandoran now – roared to life. With a little more coaching from Abel, Angie brought the tilt-rotor up, then sailed out through the armor bay door, Tswayon flying beside her.

The first ten minutes went just fine. Hovering above the tarmac, Abel guided her through a couple of slow, simple maneuvers. Angie had to admit, it was kind of interesting to be in control of a high-powered technological vehicle again. Even so, just a quick look over at Tswayon reminded her that there were better ways to fly. For all its power, the gunship was dumb as a post; nothing like her brave, living winged mount.

"Okay, you're doing great Angie! Now why don't you try circling the base a couple of times?"

"Got it. Starting the first lap." Pulling up above the perimeter fence, the pilot Avatar made a wide left turn. The aircraft responded perfectly, banking smoothly…

Until the left control stick snapped off in her hand.

_Better than steel? My stripey blue butt!_ "ABEL!!! The joystick just broke off while I was holding it!"

On the other end, she could hear Mack giving his friend a little _tsk_. "I told you the wood was a bad idea, man…."

"Okay, okay, Angie, calm down! This is a test flight, after all. The whole point is to find where the glitches are so we can fix 'em when you get back."

"Abel, I'm holding one of the control sticks _in my frickin' hand!!!!_ How am I supposed to fly your pet gunship without that?!?"

"Take it easy! As long as the left fan's still going, you should be fine. Just make a lot of left turns using the right fan, turn the power down, then cut your engines when your altitude's low enough."

Angie contemplated just jumping out, letting Tswayon catch her, and letting Abel's beloved science project crash and burn. Instead, she gave a groan. "All right, Mr. Wizard. I'm bringing this thing back to you, and you two can mess with it while I fly home on something that _doesn't_ fall apart!" Using only the right joystick, Angie maneuvered the jury-rigged machine back toward the armor bay, gradually reducing power to descend.

Then the broken control stick gave a spark, and all hell broke loose.

Suddenly, the gunship zoomed upward, its rotors whining as it poured on speed. "Abellllll!! This thing's going crazy! I think the broken control stick's still sending it signals, and it's going nuts!"

"Aw, crap! Um, okay, just let me think…."

"AAAABEEELLLLLLLLLL!!!!" hollered the female Avatar, roaring over the armor bay like a barnstormer. "When I get out of this thing, I am gonna KILL YOU!!!!"

From the ground, Mack and Abel could only watch helplessly as the Scorpion wobbled erratically through the air, buzzing like an angry hornet. "Jeezus, Abel! The thing's outta control!" Mack shouted over the fan wash.

Then a burst of flame and smoke appeared from beneath the gunship's left wing, and a rocket streaked down to obliterate a patch of asphalt. "Abel!!! The weapons on the left wing are going nuts! LOOK OUT!!!"

"Holy— c'mon, man!" Mack cried, just as the haywire machine turned toward them, unloading an entire missile pod in the direction of the armor bay. The two hapless techs barely managed to leap behind an armored Ground Attack Vehicle before the rockets hit the ground nearby, knocking the GAV over on its side.

Meanwhile, Angie let out a frustrated growl, jerking the remaining joystick hard to try and regain control.

Then the _second_ stick snapped off in her hand.

"Uh-oh…."

Now totally out of control, the Scorpion took off over the forest, its engines roaring at maximum power. "Tswayon!" Angie cried, yanking the helmet off. "Screw this!" she exclaimed, then hit the eject button. The gunship's belly hinged open like a bomb bay door, and Angie dropped straight onto the back of her trusty ikran. The two bonded, then quickly turned back around. The gunship plummeted into the canopy, disappearing just before an enormous BOOM! shook the air below them.

---

"Uh, Mack?"

"Yeah, Abel?"

"What do you do when you see a ten-foot-tall blue lady coming at you, she's _really_ pissed, and she's riding a dragon?"

"Uh … run away?"

"Good answer! AIIIEEEEEEEE!!!!"

"YAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!"

---

When Ash and Lily first burst through the foliage, they half expected to find a giant crater where Fort Chacon had been. "Crap! What did those two morons blow up this time?!?" Ash exclaimed, her breath coming in rapid pants as they raced toward the commotion.

"From the sounds of it, they must have set off every shell in the armor bay!" Lily called back.

When they arrived, however, the Avatars were relieved to find the base intact. Well, _mostly_ intact; there was one giant crater in front of the armor bay door, but otherwise, the place looked relatively all right.

As the newcomers watched, four figures dashed across the landing strip: Abel Malcowicz, screaming like a little girl, his skinny legs pumping for all they were worth; Mack Reedy, hollering at the top of his lungs; and hot on their heels, one very angry-looking ikran, whose rider was shouting the most colorful curses in English and Na'vi.

Lily looked at her partner and shrugged. "Same old, same old?"

Ash sighed. "Yep. Just another typical afternoon at Fort Chacon…."

---


	4. Relationship Coaching

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Chapter 4: Relationship Coaching

---

"Um, Jake? Could I ask you for some advice?"

Jake looked his old friend over. In the eight years since they had helped drive the RDA off Pandora, Norm had become a kind of nerdy younger sibling to Jake. With his love of all things Pandoran, and a vocabulary that might as well have been Greek to the ex-Marine, he reminded Jake a lot of Tom. "Sure, bro. What about?"

"Well, um, it's kind of personal."

Jake raised an eyebrow, looking a bit nervous now. "Um, how personal, exactly?"

Norm sucked in a deep, nervous breath, then slowly exhaled. "Well, er, uhm, I was wondering how you … you know … ask a girl out. In the Na'vi culture, I mean."

"Aren't you the expert on that kind of stuff? I mean, a zeo—"

"Xenoanthropologist, yeah. But Jake, you've actually developed a romantic relationship with a natural-born Na'vi. You've got Neytiri, and the kids, and … well, I'm just not sure where to begin."

Jake nodded, looking thoughtful. "Okay. Do you have anyone specific in mind?"

Norm took another cleansing breath. "Actually, I've been kind of hoping to … you know … try courting Ninat."

"Whoa, hold on. She's still single?" Jake ran into Ninat every now and again; she was the best singer in the clan, plus a skilled weaver and craftswoman. Neytiri had even mentioned her as a potential mate for him, back when Jake had first joined the Omaticaya. "I mean, it's been eight years. You're telling me she still hasn't found a mate yet?"

"Yeah, I know. I asked her about it, actually, and from what she said … I dunno. It sounded like after Quaritch knocked down Hometree, she just got kind of caught up in everything. The battle at the Tree of Souls, the search for a new Kalutrel, getting settled here, taking care of her parents … I guess looking for a mate sort of ended up on the back burner."

Jake winced_. I should have known this,_ he thought to himself. _Poor girl; she hasn't even had time for a decent date. _"All right. So, do you two hang out together? Common interests?"

"Well, you remember Tsawl's Uniltaron ceremony, right? Ninat sang there, I helped out with the drums, and we wound up dancing together afterward. I mean, she's just … beautiful! And that smile, her eyes … I mean, she's just the sweetest girl I've ever met."

Just listening to Norm gush brought a grin to Jake's face. "Man, you've got it bad. How does she feel about you?"

"Um … well, you know, we hang out together, we both ride pa'li on sturmbeest hunts. We sit together at the cooking pit sometimes. It's like … I mean, there's these times when our hands touch, and we both kind of laugh, but … I dunno. I think we're both just shy people, you know? I just need some coaching, I guess. I mean, you and Neytiri didn't even like each other when you met; how did you win her over?"

Jake tried to remember anything useful. "Um, well, we spent a lot of time together while I was training. I got to know her, and she got to know me. We, um, practiced archery, and she kind of slapped me around a little bit. Uh, we practiced climbing, she slapped me some more; practiced speaking Na'vi, more slapping…."

By now, Norm was looking downright terrified. "So, um, the slapping…?"

Jake shook his head. "Never mind. Norm, don't worry; Ninat's a sweet girl, and you're a really nice, smart guy. I'm sure you won't have all the problems Neytiri and I had. Just be yourself, and tell her you like her, and ask if she'd consider being mated with you."

"Oh, it's that easy, huh…?"

Jake did a facepalm, knowing just how idiotic he sounded. _I'm about as romantic as a hammerhead in rut, and we both know it. The only reason Neytiri didn't kill me on day one was because Eywa was watching over my clueless blue butt._

_Barring divine intervention, how am I supposed to get Norm a date?_

---

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the Avatars, a very similar conversation was taking place elsewhere in Kalutrel. As Tsahik, Neytiri had been summoned to the hammock of Ninat and her aged parents. The poor singer's mother had come down with a fever the day before, and Neytiri had had to consult her own mother for a suitable remedy. Now, after giving the old woman some herbal tea, Neytiri was preparing to head back to her own hammock.

"_Thank you very much, Tsahik,"_ Ninat whispered, trying not to wake the older couple nearby. _"I can hear Mother's breathing; she is better than she was even half an hour ago."_

Neytiri smiled warmly at her friend, patting her on the shoulder. _"You're welcome, Sister. If you need anything else, do not hesitate to ask."_

Ninat seemed to pull back thoughtfully for a moment. _"Well … there is one thing I would like to ask about."_

Neytiri cocked her head to one side. _"What would you like to know?"_

"_Ah, well…."_ The slightly shorter, more willowy woman averted her gaze downward. _"It is, um, an unusual request."_

"_I don't mind. Please, Sister, say what is troubling you."_

Ninat took a deep breath, her necklace tinkling softly. _"It is about Sky People. Especially … well, how do you mate with one?"_

Neytiri almost fell off the branch. The thought of chaste, quiet Ninat, trying to woo one of the tiny pink creatures? _"M-mate? With a Sky Person?!?"_

"_No! I mean, not a real Sky Person! I mean somebody who once was, er, the way Normspellmon … you know, a once-Dreamwalker."_

Neytiri managed to get herself back under control. _"Aha. So … you are attracted to Norm?"_

Contrary to popular belief among Sky People, Na'vi do not turn bluer when they blush; instead, the tiny lights on Ninat's face glowed brightly, like her own personal galaxy of emotions. _"Y-yes. And I believe he is attracted to me, as well. But he has not chosen me, and I am not sure how to gain his interest."_

Neytiri looked thoughtful for a moment. Normspellmon was Jake's best friend, and had proven himself to be one of the People in his heart, even before becoming Na'vi. Sadly, Norm's original Dreamwalker body had died during the battle for the Tree of Souls - as had his original mate, Trudy. The poor scientist had been forced to remain in his Sky People body, while most of his fellow Dreamwalkers had joined the Omaticaya. Only after six years had he been able to walk among the People again, in a fresh new Dreamwalker form. Once his training was complete, he had happily shed his old body, joining the Omaticaya permanently. At the time, however, Norm had not chosen a mate - the memory of trudy had still brought too much pain. _Perhaps he is finally ready?_

"_You do realize that Norm has strange customs. He is not quite an empty cup; he still carries his '_science'_. He has only lived among the People for two years now."_

At this, Ninat actually smiled. _"Oh yes, he talks about _science_ constantly. He is like a child, but in a good way; always seeking to understand. He walks in awe of the world around us, never taking anything for granted. He is strange, but in a good way, I think."_

Neytiri could only smile and nod her head at this. _Yes, she is well and truly in love with this man. "All right. So, go and tell him your feelings."_

Ninat's blush brightened. _"But … but, well, what if he says no? Or what if now is too soon? Neytiri, please tell me: how did you and Jakesully find one another?"_

Neytiri actually winced, taking a short, hissing breath through her teeth. _I very nearly put an arrow through his heart. Then I tried to kill his Dreamwalker body with hard training. There was much slapping and hissing involved … best not to tell her that. "We were … brought together by the Great Mother," _she said vaguely.

"_So, I should wait for a sign then? For the atokirina to guide me?"_

Neytiri put a hand to her head. _"No, no! That's not what I meant! If every woman waited for an atokirina to alight on her man, most would die childless! I mean, you should follow your feelings. Share them with Norm. If it is meant to be, then he will return your love with his, and your hearts will be joined together."_

Ninat looked down at the ground, her ears folded back with anxiety. _"You make it sound so simple. And yet … why does my heart beat so quickly?"_

Neytiri's first impulse was to say something rather indelicate, to the effect of "Quit whining, go find Norm and tell him you love him!" Instead, the warrior-Tsahik took a deep, calming breath, trying to think of a way to boost her childhood friend's confidence.

Then she put a reassuring hand on Ninat's shoulder. _"I think I have an idea…."_

---

"Are you really sure this will work? I mean, what if she sees the receiver? She's not ignorant, Jake; I'll bet you anything she knows what a throat mic is."

"I know, I know. Calm down; you don't have to wear the mic at your throat. Just wrap it around your dagger sheath, like jewelry or something. I'll stay close by so I can hear you without it. You just keep the ear buds in, and when you start getting nervous or tongue-tied, clear your throat. I'll coach you when you need it."

Norm took a deep breath. "Okay. Jake, um … thanks. I mean, for helping me out like this."

Jake just grinned, giving his best friend a hearty pat on the back. "No problem. Just be natural; I'll bet she's just as nervous as you are."

As Jake headed for some nearby bushes to conceal himself, Norm squared his shoulders, trying to slow his hammering heartbeat. It's okay, Norm. You can do this. Act natural!

Then he spotted Ninat, and his heart nearly leaped into his throat. The petite (by Na'vi standards) woman was dressed in a brightly colored loincloth, with an intricate shawl of beadwork. Her long black hair was gathered into a thick ponytail, secured along its length by five multicolored hair bands. A beautiful gold-and-lilac flower was nestled in her hair, just behind her left ear. As the two saw each other, the lights on their faces – in fact, all over their striped blue skin – lit up with anticipation.

"Okay, Norm!" Jake's voice whispered in his ear. "You're up!"

"_Ah, I s-s-see you, Ninat,"_ Norm stammered in Na'vi, trying to smile naturally.

Ninat's blush deepened, and she offered a shy little smile of her own. _"I see you, Normspellmon. You … asked me to come?"_

"_Yes! I … ah ... wanted to talk to you."_

"_And I have been meaning to speak with you as well."_

"About what?" hissed Jake. "Don't beat around the bush!"

---

The sudden noise caused Neytiri to turn her head, ears pricked up. Tapping the far-speaker around her throat, she whispered, _"Ninat, do not be afraid! Tell him how you feel! Do not wait! If there is silence, fill it!"_

From somewhere to her right, the sound came again. This time, Neytiri recognized it as speech – in the language of the Sky People. "C'mon, Norm! Just spit it out! 'I love you'! It's just three little words! Well, okay, technically it's four words in Na'vi…."

Neytiri's first response was shock … then understanding. "My Jake …?"

As if startled, a head shot up out of the bushes, ears pricked up, looking around with wide eyes. A very familiar head….

They locked gazes, and Jake saw the wry smile on his mate's lips. "Um … hi! Fancy meeting you here!"

---

"_Um, hi! Fancy meeting you here!"_ Norm said. _We already greeted each other! Why does he want me to say this now?_

Ninat seemed confused, too … though not just because of Norm's odd conversation._ "My Jake?" I am speaking to Norm, not to Jake! What sort of help is this?_

Feeling like an idiot, Norm sighed … then pulled out the ear buds. _"Ninat, I … I wanted to tell you how I feel about you. I … like you. Very much. I respect you, and I admire you. You are wise, and kind, and intelligent, and I … I love you."_

For a moment, both of them stood there – Norm not quite believing that he'd had the guts to finally say it, and Ninat just overwhelmed at having heard the words.

Then Ninat smiled, looking the tall, lanky Avatar in the eyes. _"And I came to tell you that I feel the same. I love you, Normspellmon."_

An enormous grin appeared on Norm's face. "You do? I mean, really?" he blurted out, lapsing into English.

"Yes!" Ninat said, her Na'vi accent making the Sky People word sound somehow beautiful, musical and exotic – just like her, Norm thought.

Their embrace was spontaneous and simultaneous. It felt as natural as drops of water colliding; suddenly, the two hearts merged into one. Immediately, both of them were laughing, holding one another close. Norm looked down into Ninat's eyes, seeing the same joy and relief mingled in them. _"I was … kind of worried you wouldn't feel the same. With me being a Dreamwalker, I mean."_

Ninat smiled. _"And I was afraid you would find me too plain, or not strong enough. You know I am not the best hunter."_

Norm shrugged. _"Neither am I. But you have a good heart. And you're the kindest person I've ever met, on any world, of any People."_

Ninat smiled, and the lovers breathed a sigh of shared relief, the day's tension evaporating as they held each other.

Without saying a word, they laid down the Sky People gadgets they had brought. Then, arm in arm, they made their way into the forest.

---

"Well, I'll be. I guess they didn't need us after all."

"It is just as well. Their words came from their own hearts. Well, most of them, anyway…."

"Um, heh-heh. Yeah…."

"You know, My Jake, when two people are mated, it is a joyful thing. Perhaps we should celebrate."

"Mm, yeah. Just what sort of things do you do at a wedding, any— Oh. _Oh. That_ kind of celebrating."

"Mm-hmm."

"Right here?"

"They are gone already. Why not?"

"Good question…."

*Smooch*

WHUMP

---


End file.
